What Lurks Beneath
by elisheva
Summary: Robin Hood is injured during a fight and his friends do what they can to keep him safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: As lovely as it would be I don't own any of these characters. I just claim the story idea and actual writings as mine. Enjoy!**

* * *

Robert Huntingdon, former earl of Locksley, knew they were in trouble. He ordered his group's retreat and fired four successive arrows, each hitting their target, to allow time for his men to get away. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Robin couldn't help but smile at his unmissed targeting.

A large man came at him fast and he swore as he brought up his bow to deflect the blow. He managed to rap the man on his helmet, knocking him back while another took his place, slashing at Robin's feet. Robin jumped up to avoid losing his extremities all together but when he came back down on the log he came down awkwardly and was pitched backwards onto the ground. Though there were plenty of leaves they didn't help soften the hard ground and the impact left him momentarily stunned. It gave his enemy enough time.

It became hard to breathe as Robin's chest was pressed down by two hundred fifty pounds of enemy flesh and armor. Robin grunted, aware he was weaponless and quite defenseless. Well, almost defenseless.

Robin gave the man nearly smothering him a grin. "Been training, have you," he said to his oppressor. "I feel honored." While the sheriff's man was stalled in bafflement Robin let his balled fist fly, connecting squarely with his advisory's nose guard, causing blood to gush down his face and all over Robin's front.

Enraged, the man grabbed Robin's head and bashed it hard enough on the ground to cause stars to form in front of Robin's eyes. Robin tried to get his hands up to stop the assault but his head hit the unyielding ground and he felt an explosion of pain and then, blissfully, nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't want to open his eyes but fear of unknown proceedings around him- and the sounds of a man screaming nearby- made his eyes come open involuntarily.

Dull light permeated his eyes but even that was enough to make his head hurt sharply. Wincing, he reached a hand to where the pain was centralized and brought it back to see it dark with blood.

Striving to forget his pressing pain, he tried to get a bearing on where he was. From where he sat all he could truly see was bars all around him. As he attempted to stand to look at the exterior of his prison he yelped in pain as his right foot refused to hold his weight. Determined, he managed to hop to the front bars in his 2 x 2 cell, using his hands on the iron and his good leg to balance as he took in everything.

He saw many other cells but only one other prisoner, who was too far away to talk with. "Well, that seems a little convenient," he muttered to himself. There had to be another prisoner from the sounds of the ebbing screaming. He had to get out of here.

Sounds came from an outer corridor and he weighed his options but chose to stay where he stood due to his injury.

"Lady Marian, surely this is a sight you would rather not see," a deep voice was saying.

"I assure you, Sir Guy, if this man is who you claim him to be I am very interested in seeing him."

The couple entered the atrium and headed straight for him. The fair Lady Marian's face held a blank, if not bored look on her face. Sir Guy's expression was dark and brooding. "Well, Hood. What have you to say for yourself?"

The "Hood" smiled slightly. "How about being a good chap and letting me free?"

The knight snorted. "Hardly. We've more planned for you."

Marian gasped. "Sir Guy, I must protest the treatment of this prisoner. It appears his leg has been injured."

"I can assure _you_, Marian, Hood hasn't been hurt in this prison." 'Yet' sat between them, unspoken but understood.

She was persistent. "Never-the-less, I would like to look at his injury."

"Injuries," the prisoner in question couldn't resist in adding, turning his head for her to see.

She gasped again. "Sir Guy!"

"To what purpose would it be to heal a criminal who will hang for his crime in several days time?"

The lady glared at Sir Guy. "Would you like for your 'criminal' to die before you and the sheriff get the satisfaction of your public hanging?"

Sir Guy sighed. "I shall send for the castle's healer."

A small hand on his sleeve stopped him. "I've seen how well your healer knows his trade. I will take care of him. I shall require clean water, several clean rags, and a needle and thread."

The darkly man studied her for a moment before bowing his head and turning to deliver his orders.

Once he had disappeared behind the thick door, Marian took the extra step to touch his hands still on the bars. "What have you gotten yourself into?" she asked in a low voice.

"A prison cell. In which I am desperately in need of a way out. Are you going to help me?"

She frowned up at him, with her full mouth. "Now is not the time."

He scowled back. "And when is it the time, Lady Marian? When I am on the scaffold?"

"Don't take that tone with me. I can't do this by myself. As soon as I can leave I will get word to the others."

He felt he was pouting but hardly cared. "Are you even sure you want to help, my lady? You and Sir Guy seem pretty close."

Marian narrowed her eyes. "Now is not the time for that nonsense either, Robin."

Before he could retort she jumped back as if he had struck her and the door opened to admit Sir Guy and two other servants, who were carrying Marian's needed things. The man scowled at his prisoner as he reached for his key ring. "Don't try anything, Hood, or it'd be the last thing you do. Get back."

Robin hobbled backwards to the back wall.

Marian, meanwhile, had rolled her eyes. "With a hurt foot I doubt if he'd be able to get very far."

"Unless he's faking it." Regardless, he opened the door to admit Marian and her supplies before locking the door behind her. "I've got duties to attend to but these guard will help you if he gives you trouble, Marian."

Robin eyed Marian as she approached him. "Sit down before you pass out," she told him, helping him to the ground before she gently pushed his head down to look at his wound. She stood to get the water and a rag and settled down once again, leaning in to start cleaning tenderly. "My God, Robin. Is all this blood yours?"

He looked at the front of his tunic and noticed the caked blood for the first time. "I don't know," he admitted.

She just sighed and administered the cleaning. She touched a tender spot and even with his head down he felt a wave of nausea. Reaching out blindly he managed to grab her arm to stop her until it subsided somewhat. But when she tried again the nausea once again took hold and he ended up on all fours, throwing up in the nearest corner.

"I think I should sit up for a while," he told her once he crawled back to where she was patiently sitting.

Marian nibbled on her lip. "Should I look at your foot?"

He gave her a weak smile. "Do your worse, my lady."

She moved to his injured outstretched foot. "I could do without your smart mouth, outlaw. This is hurting me as much as it hurts you."

Robin winced as she gave his boot a tug. "Oh, I seriously have doubts about that statement."

Marian frowned down at the boot. "Perhaps I should cut it off."

"My foot?" he asked, alarmed.

"The foot _wear_."

"'Tis a grand set of boots, though."

Her solemn gaze met his. "Indeed. Befitting for an earl, not an outlaw."

"I could be an earl," he mused.

"You could _have_," she corrected, pulling his offending boot once again. "But you made your choice and you've allowed Gisbourne to have your land and titles while you play in the woods like a lost boy."

He hissed as the boot slipped slightly down . "If you despise me so then why help me?"

"Perhaps I am doing it for the very reason I told Sir Guy- so you won't die before your public hanging. Perhaps I'm doing it in memory of your poor father who is better off dead rather than see his only child performing acts of a common criminal." She stopped and let her gaze find his before continuing in a lower voice. "Or perhaps it's because despite your outlandish ways your reasoning is good and your heart is pure. And it's your methods I despise, not you."

Robin flashed her a boyish grin. "Coming from such a beautiful lass my heart is all a-flutter."

She rolled her eyes but didn't bother to hide her smile. "Ever the flirtatious boy."

He suddenly grabbed her and pulled her to sit next to him. He saw that although she was startled she certainly wasn't frightened or worried, just curious. "Are you always this calm around strange men?" he had to ask.

She lifted an eyebrow. "You're hardly that strange of a man. What am I doing here?"

He brought his hurt foot across his left thigh and steeled himself. "You're to steady me if I pass out. My head feels as though it can't take me hitting the ground anymore."

She didn't question him but wrapped her hands around his right biceps, ready to be of use if needed. Robin took grip of the boot and yanked with all his strength. The pain was intense, the swelling- somewhat stanched by the boot- was immediate and the black curtain that hazed his eyes threatened to take over.

He felt a hand move his chin and could see the hazy face of Marian moving her lips but the ringing in his ears refused to allow him to hear her. She put both hands on his face and he put his hands on her wrists and closed his eyes as he tried to get control of the lightheadedness.

From far away and then closer he could hear her sweet voice. "Robin, Robin. It's all right. That was the worst of it. Come back to me, Robin." She smiled at him when he opened his eyes. "There you are. How ever did you survive the war?"

He frowned. "What war?"

Her frown matched his. "What do you mean 'what war'?"

"A simple question, Marian. I do not remember a war."

She slid her hands into his and squeezed them. "If you can not remember a war, Robin, what else do you not remember?"

"My foot ever hurting this bad."

At that she proceeded to poke and prod the bare extremity. "It's not broken," she finally announced. "I think you twisted it good but it will be fine in a few days time."

He grimaced. "Just in time for the hanging."

She gave him a frown but went to retrieve a clean rag and more fresh water before sitting beside him again. "It might be best if you lie down this time. I want to take a good look at your head."

"The brain is rattled but it's there," he told her but laid down on his stomach, his head facing her knees with his right arm draped across her shins and his other arm behind her, close but not touching. She began to tell him a story of a princess and a prince of neighboring kingdom who were destined to marry. But before they could, discord broke out and the prince was sent to take control. When the prince finally was able to return home he found the princess being held captive by an evil man.

Between the soft words, the soft legs, and the soft touch in his hair Robin fell into a comfortable sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

There was yelling, screaming, chaos, Under attack. His back felt like it was on fire when he moved but he couldn't afford any mistakes. His broadsword in his hand he bided his time before making his move. In the darkness he counted...one...two...three before jumping into the fray- a surprise to all the hooded, faceless attackers who hadn't counted on another.

He saw his men, many armor less like him and he made a mental note to tell the men to wear protection even in bed. Suddenly, there was silence. Bodies lying all around as he stood with his sword dripping in blood. The faces of his men were the only ones he could see- not soldiers but loyal men all the same. And he knew he was the one who had spilled their blood.

Through his subconscious Robin heard whispers near him and he forced himself out of his dream state but kept his breathing slow to simulate sleep.

"I don't mean to be funny but he looks like he's dead."

"That's how he sleeps."

"Marian said he had a nasty blow to the head," an accented voice lithe. "He needs not to sleep as much until a concussion is eliminated."

"His ankle is huge!"

"Hush, Allan!" she said. "It will be of no use to Robin if we are all caught."

Robin heard a click and someone come near him.

"Be careful! Here, let me wake him." There was a soft touch on his shoulder. "Master Robin? It's Much."

Robin grabbed the hand and yanked the man down to him. Wide eyes and a scruffy face looked back at him. "Much, what are you doing?"

Much gave Robin a grin. "Rescuing you, of course. Marian told us you were here. After the fight with the sheriff's men we looked all over but--"

"Much! We've not much time!"

"Djaq's right," Much stated. "Ready?"

Robin pointed to his bare foot. "I'm slightly impaired," he said.

Much smiled. "That's why we brought John," he said as he gestured to the burly giant beside him.

"Ready, Robin?" John asked before picked him up like he was air.

"Be careful of his head," Djaq warned but it was too late. The movement was rough enough, the pain intensified, Robin gave into the black once more.

* * *

Something jerked his eyes open and he found himself looking up at a Saracen posed to strike him again. He threw his hands up to protect his face but small hands gently moved them. "I'm sorry, Robin, but I had to wake you."

"I told her not to hit you, Master, but nobody ever listens to me." Much came into view, nearly shoving Djaq aside.

Djaq frowned at him. "I thought you were making dinner."

"I asked Will to. I wanted to be here in case he needed me."

"Well, now that he's awake he needs food and I'm sure he would prefer something eatable, Much."

Much still looked reluctant. "Well, I'll just be right over here then," he said, slowly moving away.

Robin grinned at the loyalty.

"How do you feel, Robin?" asked Djaq, bringing his attention back to her.

"Like I've been kicked in the head by a horse, beaten by an army, and slapped by an angry mistress."

"I had to wake you."

He grunted as he sat up, finding himself on a semi-flat rock. He took note of the swollen ankle that was already turning a pretty shade of dark purple. He attempted to move it and winced in pain. "_That_ feels like it's broken in several different places."

Djaq studied him solemnly. "Your ankle is not broken. Your head I'm not so sure."

Robin smiled. "I can assure you my head may be bruised but it's not cracked."

"And inside your head?"

He laughed. "I'm no healer but I'm fairly certain a brain can not be cracked."

"No, Robin, but it can be fragmented. Marian mentioned to me she was worried your brain was addled."

Robin's easy smile turned into a scowl. "She is in the company of Gisbourne. It's her brain that is addled."

"Who is that by the fire?"

He looked. "Much."

"And by the tree?"

"John. And there's Allan and Will and you're Djaq. What is your point?"

"What's my real name?"

Robin froze and looked into her dark eyes.

"You don't know?" she whispered as her eyes got wider.

He slowly shook his head.

"But how did you know about the others?"

"I heard you talking," he admitted.

Djaq stared at him horrified. "Tell no one. Not even the men. I will figure out something."


	4. Chapter 4

The morning brought no new memories for Robin and by mid-afternoon he was bored to tears stuck in his prone position. The swelling had gone mostly down with the elevation Djag had him do so he took it upon himself to hobble over to the fine to join the other men.

"Here," Much said as he handed him a long bow and arrows. "Allan and I found these when we went looking for you. You are never without these so we figured the sheriff had gotten you."

"Before Marian came," Allan added.

Robin smiled. "Thanks, lads. You saved my pretty neck."

Djaq stood and went to Robin's side, Will moving to allow her room. "If you insist on moving about give me your tunic and your foot."

He shucked his blood caked hood shirt and handed it over warily. "What's on your mind?"

She didn't answer but instead took a knife to the garment to cut strips.

"Hey!" he protested. "What're you doing? I happen to like that shirt!"

"You've plenty more stowed away, I assure you. Give me your foot."

He eyed her and the sharp knife she had in her grip. "I hardly think my ankle is needing such hasty measures."

"Master," the ever-present Much said from Robin's left side, "perhaps Djaq is merely trying to clothe your foot to protect from the forest."

Sighing, Robin shifted and raised his leg to place on Djaq's lap. He watched as she used the shredded shirt to wrap his foot and ankle before covering it up with the detached hood. It was held up by a cord of rope making an efficient boot of some sort. He was impressed. "Suppose you've done such a thing a time or two," he said as he tested it against the ground.

"You might say that," she answered back before standing. "Are you ready?"

Robin threw a twig into the fire before turning his head to look up at her. "And where are we going exactly?"

Djaq frowned slightly at him. "To see Marian, of course. You told me yesterday you needed to see her and you asked me to come along as lookout."

Robin raised an eyebrow into his longish hair but stood without a word. Much stood as well. "Where do you think you're going? he asked the man.

Much faltered and looked at Robin with his expressive eyes. "I, uh, well...you might need backup."

He raised the other brow. "I hardly think Lady Marian is more than I can handle, Much."

Much flushed. "I meant in case Gisbourne comes sniffing around looking for vengeance against as escaped outlaw."

Robin placed his hands on Much's thin shoulders and smiled. "All the more reason for you to stay here. I'm the one he's after, not you."

"But...you do not wish for me to come along," Much asked, his hurt apparent.

Robin gently squeezed his shoulders. "I _am_ seeing a lady. I shall cherish the alone time."

Much pouted. "Djaq goes with you."

"I think Djaq wishes to discuss girly thing like ribbons and what not. Do not worry, Much! You'll grow old before your time."

He pouted. "I've done that already, Master Robin."

Robin gave him a smile before releasing him and hobbling to where Djaq stood with two horses, warily of his foot. He was quiet through the entirety of the trip through the forest to the hall containing Marian.

"Djaq," he said, finally they approached the home.

"Sh," she warned him at the edge of the trees. "Stay here. I shall get Marian."

He watched with amusement as she lobbed several procured stones towards a window until a familiar dark head poked out. Djaq gestured to where Robin sat upon his horse and then Marian nodded once before ducking back inside a moment.

When the two women made it back to him and the horses he clapped his hands and smiled. "Bravo, ladies. Conspiracies and intrigues abound."

Marian frowned up him and tugged on his nearest pants leg. "Hush, Robin! Let's go by the stream. We can talk safely there."

Perplexed, he allowed his horse to be led by the bossy woman a small ways until they came across a body of water he would loosely label a brook. Refusing help, he slid down on his good foot, using the horse as a manner of balance before choosing a flat mossy rock to park himself next to the clear water.

Being female didn't stop Marian from crawling right beside him, paying no mind to the state of her dress. As he shucked his boot she gestured to his injured foot. "Interesting wrappings."

"Do not get me started," he said as he glowered at Djaq.

For her part his healer wasn't bothered as she tied up the horses. "The cool water should help the swelling."

"I know," he told her like a moody child.

Marian's deft fingers beat his blunt ones and unties his wrapped foot. "Djaq tell me you have no memory."

"I have memory enough. It just does not stretch further than the jail.'

Marian glared into his eyes furiously. "This is no game, Robin! Lives are at stake and people depend upon you. If you can't remember your goal or talk to the wrong person then those people will most certainly DIE."

He raised an eyebrow. "I've a fair idea I shouldn't be talking to right now."

"Robin!"

He grabbed her wrists to hold her still. "'Tis no game, Marian. And I may not remember much but you don't strike me as a hysterical type so hold yourself in check and help me figure this out."

Her face was close to his as she studied his features. "Kiss me."

He was startled. "Excuse me?"

She pulled herself back to rid herself of her shoes as well. "That settles it, Djaq. He's not Robin."

"I told you," the Saracen stated as she crossed the narrow brook to sit across from them.

"I think I just missed something."

Marian gave him a leveled look. "Since we were children you've been trying to kiss me, Robin."

He gave her a boyish grin. "Was I ever successful?"

"Once," she said, briskly. "Here by the water." She studied her feet in the cold liquid. "You brought me here to tell me you were going to war. I kissed you because I thought I would never see you again."

"I didn't warrant a kiss when I returned in one piece?" he asked, teasingly.

She shot him a glare. "You came back, alright, and started a personal war against the Sheriff. You deserve a slap in the face."

Robin shrugged. "I'm sure I had good reasonings."

"Good reasonings but bad actions. All your life you've been nothing but a spoiled boy wanting all the attention. With your lands and titles you could have done so much under the cover. Instead you blatantly rob the Sheriff's coffers and then stick your tongue out at him."

He thought about what she was saying. "To hear you speak there are others who fight with me but under a cover."

Marian nodded. "There are many who oppose the tyranny of the Sheriff and Prince John. And they help whenever they can."

Robin frowned slightly. "Sounds to me as if they value their heads above the rights of others."

Djaq's laughter broke into their heated debate. "Even addled the same argument is spoken. You are too much different yet very much the same."

Marian's eyebrows arched. "I think I am insulted."

"And I think," added Robin, "that you are too biased to give a representation of who I am."

Marian squared back her shoulders and met his gaze evenly. "You are Robin Hood. You take money from those who need it the least and give it to the ones who need it most."

"And I have a group of men who follow my orders simply because of that reasoning?"

One corner of her mouth tugged up. "You can be very persuasive when you want to be."

The hot sun beating through the trees, the cold water numbing feet, the gentle breeze pulling hair, the drone of insects around the three made Robin lose interest in the conversation floating around him. He leaned back and laid on the rock, hands behind his head to protect his already sore skull. Soon he was in the grips of sleep. The voices of the women broke though every so often.

"I'm not sure he should sleep," Djaq sounded.

Marian's answer seemed far away and hours later. "He looks truly exhausted."

Once again he was in a tent, pitch dark but the heat was still overwhelming. Despite that, the king wanted a fire every night. Robin had been the only one to argue.

"King Richard, 'tis suicide to let the Saracens know where you camp at night."

The Lionheart just laughed and slapped a hand to Robin's back. "Dearest Robert, let me give you a tactical lesson. With the fire lit, the enemy will be _less_ likely to attack for two reasons. One is the obvious one- they won't want to attack in the light where all the English soldiers can see them. The other is that they are scared at our brazen ways- unsure, like yourself, why there is flame."

Robin frowned. "It's too bloody hot to have a fire in the damn desert."

That night the attack Robin predicted came without warning. The light from the fire became a hindrance to the English as they struggled to tell friend from foe. Robin felt a blade slice his side and prayed he would survive long enough to save Richard. And Much. Poor unassuming, ever loyal Much who was a victim of the Crusades by the sheer boyhood dreams of his master.

When Robin shifted in his sleep and mumbled, Marian instinctively pressed his rough dirty hand in hers. No matter how old they got she still couldn't fight the urge to protect him. She found it quite ironic that the more aggressively he fought others regardless of himself the more she wanted him to keep hidden, safely away. But she would never admit it to his or any other.

Djaq saw more than she let on and smiled at the two before suddenly frowning. "Marian, I do not care for his color."

Marian looked down at the sleeping man to find his skin pale and sweaty. "Robin?" she asked as she shifted and brought her hand to his face. Feeling him she gasped. "Djaq! He's burning to the touch."

Djaq immediately jumped in the water to reach them the quickest, not caring that she was wet from the waist down. "A fever then. This is not good."

Marian looked at the smaller woman decisively. "Help me get him up. We must get him to my place."

Djaq stared at her. "I don't think that is such a wise idea."

Marian was too busy devising a way to move Robin to worry about the Saracen's looks. "He doesn't need fresh air and hard dirt, he needs a roof and a decent bed to heal."

"You do not need Gisbourne to find a most famous outlaw hiding in your sheets."

She finally turned to glare at Djaq. "The effort you spend arguing with me could have better use helping me help Robin. Either way we go he can not stay here and he will be safe enough at my home until you can fetch the others."

Djaq finally nodded and patted his cheek hard. "Robin, can you hear us? It would be most helpful if you could walk."

His forest colored eyes opened and looked out of focus at her before saying something guttural before his eyes rolled back into his head.

"What did he say?" Marian asked as she placed her hand on his wet calf to rewrap his ankle.

"'The wind guides my feet though I can not stand'," Djaq answered. "It is a proverb of my people. Let us get him upright. Perhaps he will lighten the load."

It was a struggle but the women managed to get Robin upward and began the slow process of picking the best route through the dense forest floor. Though Robin was not the tallest man nor the brawniest, he certainly was heavier than he appeared to be. Especially as dead weight.

Marian's father opened the front door just as the trio approached. "What on earth?"

"Father! Robin has fallen delusional. I believe he has a fever that _must_ be broken."

He frowned slightly. "But, Marian, think about this and the repercussions of your actions. What if he is caught here?"

She and Djaq stopped at the foot of the stairs and she turned her head to address him. "I'll not leave him to DIE."

Djaq spoke up. "It's just until I can gather the rest of the men."

Robin slumped slightly in their arms. "Hurry," Marian urged and they fought valiantly to get their load up the endless stairway.


	5. Chapter 5

Marian was tired physically and emotionally. Three days had passed since Robin had fallen ill yet nothing they did seemed to break the fever. Once they had gotten him in Marian's bed, Djaq rushed to get the others but they didn't make it back until sundown. By then Robin's fever was so high they were afraid to move him.

She looked up from where she sat in a chair at Robin's beside as her wooden door was gently opened and Much stuck his head in. "Lady Marian. It's time for supper."

She gave him a smile before looking at the pale face on her pillows. "Thank you, Much, but I want to stay here a bit longer."

"I thought you might say that so..." He walked in fully with a tray carrying a bowl of hot soup, a pitcher, and several cups. "I decided to bring it to you."

"I am not hungry," she told him.

"But you need to eat." He placed the tray on her fairly empty sitting table then handed her the bowl.

"You are quite the persistent one," Marian stated as she reluctantly took a small swallow of the soup.

Much walked to the other side of the bed, nervously fussing with the pillows and bedding. "Yes, well, look who I've served for so many countless years- the most stubborn male in all of England."

Marian forced herself to take most of the meal. The soup was good though she ate it more to please the man-servant than to satisfy hunger. "Robin has released you, has he not?"

Much's eyes left Robin's to look into her. "He did. Before the Holy Lands. He told me he was to go fight for the king. He didn't want me to have to go just because I was swore to him since we were lads so he freed me from him to make my own choice."

Marian smiled. "And you chose to go with him."

He blushed as he shrugged. "Well, I couldn't very well leave him to go it alone now could I. Master Robin could barely put on his own boot without me."

"I bet it was frightening in the war."

"I was scared. We both were. He's just better at hiding it, is all."

"I prayed for you both to return safely."

Much used one of the cups to pour water in it to try to force some down Robin's throat. "We returned safely enough just to be thrown back into a war of our own making. If only things could be like they were..."

She stood and helped hold Robin up for him. "They will be. When King Richard returns he will insist upon justice."

Much looked up from his task. "And what if he doesn't return?"

She blinked as her eyes filled suddenly with tears. "Don't say such things! The king will return. He must!"

It was approaching dusk while Marian dozed in the chair. Once Much had left earlier several people attempted to relieve her with no avail. She had so closely watched her patient as he sweat and shivered without sign of recovery she was quite afraid to leave him for any length of time.

A sound woke her and she checked the bed to see two eyes staring back at her. Her mouth rose at the corners and she leaned forward. "Robin?"

He didn't answer her but she wasn't concerned. On several occasions he had opened his eyes unseeing before closing them again. This time his eyes held the same hazy look of fever but when she put her hand out to test his forehand he jerked away from her touch and said something.

She frowned slightly at the foreign tongue but the door opened at that time and Djaq came in. "Djaq, good--" was as far as she got out of her mouth before she saw Robin move out of the corner of her eye and felt the sharp blade of a knife at her throat.

Djaq froze, unsure of the scene before her. Robin had taken Marian prisoner, holding her to him with one arm and a knife procured from the nearly tray under her jaw bone. "D'nep t'akh b't areaa aao aamhat y aetsb'ea aennuot."

"Osak'aro b'hao!" Djaq barked before putting her hands in front of her to show she meant no harm. "Let us speak English. It is your native tongue, no?"

"Release me or I slice the head off this pretty little servant," he said in a low growl.

"You are not being held under your own will," Djaq tried to reassure him. "You have been ill. You still are."

Robin swayed slightly but his grip on the frightened Marian was steady. He poked the tip of the sharp knife in her soft neck enough to draw some blood. "I will do as I say, have no doubts. If you don't have the authority to release me then bring someone who can."

"Djaq," Marian said, "go get Much!"

As Djaq disappeared out of the door Robin bent his head to talk to Marian. She could feel the heat of the fever radiating off of him. "What do _you_ know of Much?"

"He is here." She dare not move too much as she felt the blood slowly trail down her neck to the border of her dress. "But as a guest. Just as you."

He tightened his grip on her and her anxiety rose. "Guest?" he hissed. "And I suppose that Saracen just now is a 'guest' as well?"

"No, she is a friend."

It was the wrong answer. "Saracens do _not_ make friends with English unless they intend to betray them."

Her hands had automatically gone to his wrist to keep the knife from cutting her neck. She forced herself to relax. "Please let me go. I can help you."

"Then help me out by shutting your mouth so I can think"

Much opened the door unceremoniously and ran halfway in the room before stopping in horror. "Master!"

Robin seemed slightly confused. "Much? They said you weren't a prisoner but what..."

"Master, let Lady Marian go. She's not hurt you."

"She may be English, Much, but do not confuse her with Marian. She is not here in the so-called Holy Lands."

Much took in that information and raised his shoulders. "Well, what if she were?"

"Were what? Here? Don't be ridiculous."

"Master, I hardly think that Marian would very much approve of you threatening women half your size."

Robin seemed to think about it. "Well, it's not as if I'd actually kill her."

"She doesn't know that. You've scared her nearly to death and she's bleeding all over her dress. Robin, think of Marian."

The actual Marian felt him waver and his grip loosened a little. "I am. I am trying to escape now so I can go home."

She found she could move so she gently pushed the loaded hand away, allowing Much to recover the knife while she turned in Robin's arms to nudge him towards bed. "Rest now for your lady. When you feel better you can leave."

He sat at the bed's edge and wiped the pad of his thumb across her prick wound. "Marian?" he asked, unsure and unsettled before he collapsed backwards on the mattress. She left Much to move him to the pillows as she left the room for air.

As she descended the stairs everyone started talking at once:

"What happened in there?"

"Is Robin awake?"

"Did his fever break?"

Is everything ok? Djaq nearly scared us to death."

"That was most definitely NOT funny."

"Good heavens, Marian, what happened to your neck?"

The last question was her father's and she felt compelled to answer before the gang focused on that aspect and started in again. "Robin woke up but he is still fevered so I believe his perception of reality was off kilter."

"It's true," Djaq chimed in from beside John. "I think he believed he was a prisoner of war."

A wan Much appeared beside Marian. "We often have dreams- nightmares really- about the war. Sometimes it's real. Sometimes it's what could have happened. The fever caused him to believe his nightmare was reality."

Her father was appalled. "But, Marian, you're bleeding!"

She shrugged off his concern. "It's just a scratch, Father."

"Perhaps you should stay clear of that room until he is well."

"He would not have harmed me," she argued.

"Says the girl with the trickle of blood running down her neck."

"He was weak and his hand had a tremor," she countered. "Next time I shall be ready and keep all sharp objects away from him." Then she left them all to go wash the blood from her skin.


	6. Chapter 6

When he woke it was night- near midnight by his calculations of the moon. He looked around the unfamiliar- or was it familiar?- room and found himself quite alone, though he heard quiet breathing on the other side of the door to symbolize he was being guarded. He didn't think he knew where he was but he did know he needed to escape.

He sat up in the bed and quietly placed his bare feet on the floor. He stood, immediately finding that his ankle and head both throbbed with pain. Taking ginger steps, he managed to ignore the aching as he gathered discarded garments of muted green and brown and quickly donned them. Then, upon discovery of a window with an excellent route of escape, he left the house and went to the forest without making a sound.

* * *

Allan a Dale had spent a very uncomfortable night sleeping against the door frame of Robin's sickroom. Give him a forest bed any day, he thought. At least there was a pillow of needles. And noises of creatures, animals and otherwise, as the lads tended to snore. Without those he didn't sleep hardly a wink. But he wasn't suppose to be sleeping so it hardly mattered.

Standing, he stretched out his long frame and knocked gently on the door. "Robin, rise and--" He took in the empty bed, missing clothes, and open window in disbelief.

Robin was gone. Without making a sound.

* * *

The sounds of the beginning day coaxed him to open his eyes where he rested several miles from where he had escaped. Knowing they would discover his absence soon, he forced himself up and on his way.

Picking some berries for breakfast he migrated to the sound of voices near the edge of the forest.

"It's my turn!"

"I want to do it."

"You can't do it. You don't know how."

"Neither do you."

He made it to the clearing to see three children squabbling over a crude bow. There were several interestingly made arrows in the ground and a large target just a few yards away. He leaned against a tree for a much needed break as he watched the children's attempts with a smile. The arrows never came close to the target or even close to a straight line. Finally he couldn't hold back his chuckle and the children jumped as they noticed they were being watched.

Feeling sorry he had frightened them he offered some advice. "You're releasing the arrow before the string is taunt enough. That is why it does not fly far." He walked closer as he addressed the younger boy, the middle child. "You need to raise up your bow. The arrow should be near the level of your eye so you may see where it will hit."

The youngest was a girl with pigtails, giving him a flash of a time that was. "What about me?"

He smiled gently. "I've not seen you shoot."

She pouted. "They haven't let me in a while. It's my turn."

The older one rolled his eyes. "That's because you are a girl, Lizbeth. Father says a grown lady aught not know how to shoot."

"Not grown yet," she argued, stomping her foot.

"Let her shoot," he said to the lads. "When I was your age I taught a lass how to fight and she's quite the lady now." The words came out before he thought about it but while he didn't know how he knew he did know it to be true. The sister's aim was truer than the boys. He dropped to one knee to be of their height and took the bow and an arrow. "Now watch carefully."

* * *

Marian didn't want to admit it but she was worried sick about Robin. She didn't know what condition he was in, he had no weapons, and all that ran through her mind was what if he stumbled unknowingly into the wrong people. She steered her horse along the edge of the forest, unsure of what to do next. Robin had left no signs or tracks and she silently cursed him as she slid off her horse and led him to a stream for a slight rest. She found herself listening in vain for...something, anything...when she heard the clear sound of an arrow hitting a tree and then children cheering. Curious, she went to investigate.

The sight was enough to make her heart stop for a moment. Robin was instructing children how to shoot, easy grin on his face, no worry etched in his face. He looked exactly like he did before he became an outlaw. Before the war.

He heard her footsteps and whipped his head around, uneasiness marking his features until he realized who she was. The grin came back as he stood and made his way to her, still favoring his ankle. "Lady Marian," he greeted her.

"Lord Robert," she answered and the look in his eye made her smile.

"Not lord," he said, "Just a hoodlum."

Marian hugged him tightly to her. "You remember!" she said in a whisper.

"All it took was an arrow," he said in her hair.

She backed up to look at him. "You've been connected to a bow all your life, Robin."

He winked at her then turned to the children and, with an arm around her shoulders, said, "Meet my new friends, Jacob, James, and Lizbeth. This is Marian."

"The lady?" the girl asked in awe.

"Yes, in fact. Marian, would you care to show them that even a lady can be taught how to shoot a bow?"

She held out her hand for the bow. "Gladly."

* * *

"No offense to Marian," Much was saying, "but I am very glad to be back at camp."

Robin took the blade of grass out of his mouth and threw it in the growing fire as twilight grew to a close. "I'm sure your future wife would be very unpleased to hear she will be living her life in the woods, Much."

Allan spoke up next to Robin. "Don't mean to be funny, Robin, but twas _you_ who got the nice, plump, soft bedding. The rest of us lads had to settle for the wood floors."

"And dirt ground," John added.

Robin lifted his eyebrows and stopped his good foot. "And what do you call this? A fluffy cloud?"

"Ground covered with pine needles," Djaq said.

"And leaves," added Will.

"Grass."

"Moss."

"Mossy rocks."

"Shed animal fur."

Robin shook his head as he rolled his eyes in amusement at his men. Though they were right. Twas good to be home.


End file.
